Highway 12
by GoggleBox
Summary: Angels led astray never find themselves back on the path to Heaven. When Sam and Dean find themselves in the wake of a century-old banishment, Cas hints that the business of angels isn't always as picturesque as they would hope.
1. Chapter 1

Dean came to with a start, already despising angels and their stupid zapping.

Blurred veins etched through his field of vision whenever his unfocused eyes blinked open. He forced himself to relax and breathe, despite the faint bubblings of annoyance building up inside him already. When his eyes properly grabbed onto reality, he recognized the veins as trees, trunks bare until about thirty feet up, leaning over him as if to see if he was alive. The branches of needles clustered closer to the top, retreating from the unnatural intruder lying at their feet. Shattered sunlight wriggled between the branches, almost as though the clustered were a second layer of clouds. Dean slowly brought himself up and rubbed his eyes, his hand brushing against the beginnings of a beard.

He sat back on his hands and blew out through a pursed hole in his lips. "Hey!" he called. "Didya finally invest in a sense of humor?" A crow squawked a ways away. With a final exhale, he stood and brushed his back, removing the litter of leaves and other loose vegetation. Dean slowly turned over his shoulder until he'd seen every angle of his surroundings, each one no different from the last. Hands searched his clothes, trying to find a gun, but all of his pockets were empty of even a single bullet. It was an uncomfortable feeling for him. He rolled his shoulders and started walking.

.:.

Forest flattened into a cornfield after only a few minutes of walking, and a road was visible about a half mile from the coniferous forest face. "Cas! Cut the crap! Knock it off!" Dean's voice echoed around the field. The sky brightened as he crunched through the weeds, each step fraying his sanity more and more. This wasn't like him. Cas didn't do stuff like this. Hell, the worst thing he'd done was smash a few windows with a pulled finger. He wouldn't go this far.

He stopped and looked around. It looked like an American landscape, maybe midwestern. "Gabriel?" he tried. Silence.

His first mission upon arriving at the highway was to find a sign. The closest marked the empty road that split the neighboring fields as Highway 12, and he recognized the sign as Wisconsin-make. Dean growled and turned around to see a car whiz by on the opposite side and honk. "Screw you, too," he muttered, rubbing his face.

Dean rolled up his green sleeves and began down the road.

The dulled slap of his shoes echoed rhythmically, punctuated occasionally with the roar of a car. Dean prepared himself for the next car to whiz by, but was surprised when the car slowed and came to a stop next to him. "Needa lift?" asked the woman, her arms resting on the steering wheel at the forearm and a smile arcing under pulled-back hair. Dean smiled and reached for the door.

He came to on a bed of needles, staring at the trees above him and swallowing an echo of a "thank you."


	2. Chapter 2

Sam's mind gradually awoke, allowing himself the luxury of savoring the warm, sleep-embraced coziness for a few more seconds. When he finally felt the urge to open his eyes, he found himself in the same spot of the same bed of the same room. Almost comforting. Sam dripped out of bed and began toward the bathroom to wash up, but turned to put on the radio. When the song began, he slammed his hand down to turn it back off again. He whipped to face Dean's bed. Dean was gone, the blankets wrinkled like he had just dissolved into the air. From between his fingers, the radio continued playing. Sam's breathing began picking up, and the speakers, almost mockingly, began the chorus of "Heat of the Moment".

.:.

After the initial blurred vision and vertigo, Dean sat up deliberately. This was frustrating. Repeating the same thing, over and over, with no one else to understand it or help or-

He sighed and rubbed an itch under his eye. He could suddenly relate quite well to Sam's experience with mystery spots.

He rose to his feet haphazardly, like a marionette being lifted by a single string. How had Sammy done this hundreds of times? He was barely to two dozen and it had already worn him down to his final mark of patience. He gave his back a final brush before setting off on the familiar path to the road.

Halfway to the edge of the forest, he heard a crack of a branch pressed by a heavy foot. When he turned and searched for the source, only the wind moved through the forest. He began walking again.

"You look sexier when you're afraid." Dean whipped around to face the voice. The source hung upside down by her legs from one of the higher branches, a topsy-turvey smile pouting above lidded eyes. The branch obviously couldn't support her, and no wind could be able to sway her as much as she was swaying. She smirked. "Well, now you just look like a pained chipmunk." She crossed her arms and puffed a laugh through her nose. He opened his mouth to inquire, but he couldn't pick a question. She waited for a moment before raising her eyebrows. "No questions?" She spread her arms out to her sides and unbent her legs from the branch.

Dean let out a shout and ran toward the tree, as if he could make it in time to catch her. As if on cue, she curved her body backwards and stopped falling. She swooped only feet from the ground and skimmed over the forest bed away from him. Dean couldn't pull his eyes away from the spectacle, and they widened when she shot into the sky. She hovered, stories above him, before tucking into a cannonball and plummeting down over him. He stepped back, slowly at first, but with increasing speed, tripping over his feet to fall on his back. He sat up to see the girl swooping in place to maneuver into a standing position.

"Hold your applause!" she said after a fit of giggles. She looped her thumb into the hem of her jeans and walked closer. Her loosened bun bobbed with her gait. "You really are a cutie patoot-" she stopped to blink a few times. A mumbled "oh" slipped from her lips.

Dean waited for an explanation. "You smell like..." She began. After a second or two of shock, her expression flipped, and she finished with a perfectly-enunciated "Shit." She beamed at her insult.

Dean got to his feet, never taking his eyes off of her. He walked closer and looked at her. She seemed much taller now that she was on the ground. "Are...you okay?" It wasn't his biggest question, but it was the first one he could put together.

Wind blew harder, sending leaves scuttling between their feet. "I'm not the victim here. You're the one who's upskirted this tree three dozen times. I'd apologize, but-" She rolled her shoulders in a lazy shrug. "-it's kind of entertaining." Her gaze drifted around before she puffed a sigh. "You have a very boring planet, I'm afraid."

A crunch behind Dean made both pairs of eyes lock onto the man responsible. Cas stepped once more before stopping and squinting at Dean. "Good to see you, Dean."

The girl's smile dropped when she saw Castiel, and her eyes inflated in shock. Her mouth twitched as a thousand words flashed over them, each tangling and falling back down into her. Her vision was clouded in memories, all so vibrant that Dean could see emotions play across her face like she was in each of them for a split moment. When she regained control of herself, she began a word, but cut it before saying it even quieter. Dean couldn't make it out, but Cas reacted immediately. There was a shuffle of invisible wings and a pattering of an invisible heart and the trench coat man had to clench his fists to keep from shattering the trees around them.

Within ten seconds, it was over, and Cas stood in his feet again. He gave a nod to her. "You were lost and now are found."

She couldn't keep it in anymore. She counted down the steps between them as she ran and even when she got to one, they seemed too far apart. Two bodies crashed into their waiting embraces and Castiel had to step back to stay on his feet as she wrapped her arms and legs around him in a fit of tears. Her body rocked as she sobbed into his shoulder and he stroked her hair with more care than Dean had ever seen from him at once. She slowly put her feet back on the ground, but only held tighter with her arms. Wings ghosted against her back and her sniffling settled.

"Know her, then?" Dean asked.

Castiel looked at him, as though he had forgotten where he was or who he was. "We were-" he sniffed, "We were very close. In Heaven." He looked at the child in his arms. His head succumbed to his heart and he could only say it over and over, eyes closed. "In Heaven...in Heaven..."


End file.
